


A Picture is Worth A Thousand Memories

by bookspark



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Mentions of James Potter, mentions of Lily Evans, mentions of Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-20
Updated: 2010-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-15 22:18:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8075002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookspark/pseuds/bookspark
Summary: There is a picture that follows Remus throughout his life. He's uncertain if it's a blessing or a curse. He'll answer differently depending on when you ask him.





	

_The Picture was a simple one, taken one day early in sixth year by Lily. She had gone to the loo and came back to see us messing around, pulled out her Muggle camera and snapped a picture. James had his straw to Sirius’ head who was still trying to drink from his own straw. I’m leaning over, watching the two of them with a huge grin on my face while Peter looks like he’s simultaneously about to shoot his drink out his nose and send a spit-wad at us. It was always give or take with him. You can see the easy friendship we had in the snapshot._

_What you can’t see is the way Sirius’ leg is twined around mine, or that the flash of Lily’s camera stopped James from getting punched by Sirius, or that in a few years time Peter will have betrayed us all, yet would take another thirteen years for us to know that…_

**** 

“Are your eyes closed?” Sirius asks with his back turned as he’s bent over his trunk. I quickly shut my eyes again and nod my assent. “Well?” he asks and I can hear him turning around. The moon is close and my senses have sharpened in preparation. I tap my foot, and raise an eyebrow at Sirius. I know he can see me and he knows how hard it is for me to sit still when it’s this close. 

“Come on Pads,” I grumble and cross my arms. “What is this about?”

“Oh, I just thought a gift was in order. You can open your eyes now!” Sirius says to me in a sing-song voice. 

I open my eyes, an eyebrow still skeptically raised. “My birthday was three months ago and if I remember I couldn’t sit down for a day because of my present, so what is this for?” I motion with my chin to the gift-wrapped rectangle in his hands. 

“Well, around this time last year…”

“Ah,” I breathe, nodding in understanding. Around this time last year, Severus and I were in the Hospital Wing being nursed back to health after an unfortunate incident that all of us now refer to as “the shack accident”. Well not Severus, he obviously speaks to us a little as possible since I almost killed him. “So, you think you could get back into my good graces with a…book?” I say with a smirk.

Sirius shakes his head and the look on his face tells me he isn’t joking. “No, I was thinking about what’s going to happen when we leave Hogwarts in a few weeks…which started me thinking about the past- our past and I realized that…well we need a reminder. A reminder of good times and- just open it and you’ll see,” Sirius said and shoves the rectangle in my hands.

I look at Sirius for a second and smile at him, showing him that all is forgiven. It had taken a long time, be we are alright now. It had been a mistake, but we had both grown so much. I tear off the gift wrapping and saw the back of a picture frame. I flip it over and was greeted by a snapshot of the four of us. It wasn’t moving, so it had to have been a Muggle camera. And since I was in the picture- “Lily took this, and we’re…we’re at The Three Broomsticks. Oh, this was last year near the start of term! Wow…” I look up at Sirius and see that he’s come closer and is looking at the picture with me. I close the distance and peck him quickly on the forehead. “Thank you.”

Sirius grins and pokes the glass covering the picture. “It’s so weird that they don’t move. You have no idea how long it took me to wrap that! I kept getting distracted by how they don’t move!” he says and sits down next to me. “You really like it? I thought we could use it to liven up the flat a bit. I know- well I know how much you like friends and how much we mean to you and how- well I just thought about the past and then saw Lil with her camera and remembered and thought that this way, in case anything happens with you-know-what then… well then you have something to remember u-”

And then Sirius stops rambling because I’m kissing him. Soon the picture lays forgotten on my trunk as we use up precious N.E.W.T.S studying time with something far more pleasant.

_The Picture would decorate our home for four year and four months. The home wasn’t always in the same place, or even the same town. We moved a lot because of the Order, but the Picture was always there. It was a reminder of better, simpler times. Something that would always make us smile. Something that made each place a home._

_Neither of us knew then that the picture would do exactly what Sirius had said that afternoon. Because something did happen, and that picture reminded me of us for thirteen long years…_

****

I open my eyes as the door opens and sunlight streams into the dark, stone room. Blinking the sleep from my eyes I slowly push myself up, a smile on my face to greet the person who I think is Sirius. As my eyes clear, I see the long silver beard of Dumbledore and my heart drops to my stomach. “What happened? Who is it?” I immediately ask, trying to push down the panic that is steadily rising. 

I look from Dumbledore, to the window, trying to check what time it is. The only thing I can tell is that it’s late. Later than I normally wake up, but this had been a particularly hard transformation. Prongs couldn’t leave his house because You-Know-Who was targeting them, Padfoot was in hiding because he was James and Lily’s Secret Keeper and Wormtail… Well I think he said he'd wanted to check on Sirius. 

Try as I might, I can’t help but wonder if Sirius is the traitor, if maybe he’s the one who told where James and Lily were hiding a few months ago. He’s been so absent recently, so moody and distant. Even when he does come home, it isn’t the same. Whenever we’re home at the same time we sit in awkward, tense silence, and then have an angry shag before falling asleep. 

Dumbledore has taken the keys off the nail by the door as I’ve been thinking, and is now taking the chains off from around me. The weight on my shoulders feels even heavier as the chains fall to the floor. What has happened? Have Death Eaters gotten a hold of Sirius? Did a mission fail? Was there another Mugg-

“Remus,” Dumbledore’s voice jars me from my thoughts, and I look up to see he has materialized two comfy armchairs. He has set my clothes and wand down on the arm of the empty one. “Please get dressed and sit. I think you’d be much more comfortable that way.”

I open my mouth to argue but see something in Dumbledore’s eyes that stops me. I gingerly get up, take my wand and start to heal the cuts and bites the wolf caused during the night. My body is stiff from the transformation and then from sleeping on the cold stone floor. My head is reeling from worry and from fighting the wolf. I need to brace myself on the chair as I slowly pull on pants and trousers. I sit down, buttoning my shirt up, with a feeling that I would have fallen if Dumbledore hadn't provided the chair. I slowly pull on the cardigan and then look up at my old Headmaster as I fiddle nervously with my wand. “So...what’s happened?” I ask as the silence lengthens.

Dumbledore looks back at me and puts his fingertips together in front of him. “Remus, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

My heart and stomach drop to somewhere around my ankles. I had been expecting this, but from the way Dumbledore was looking at me, without a trace of his usual sparkle in his eyes, I can tell this is very, very, bad. “Yes, well I was expecting that. Will you please just tell me, sir? Then I can be the one to bring the news to Jam-”

And then I stop, because Dumbledore is slowly shaking his head and the only thing I can think comes bursting out of my mouth. “NO!” I scream half rising from my chair. “No, no, no! Dumbledore, please tell me, it can’t be any worse than what I’m thinking. It can’t-”

“I’m afraid, Remus, that is far, far worse than you could imagine,” he says calmly, but I can see the hint of emotion in his eyes, behind those cleverly placed fingers. “Please sit calmly and hear everything thing I have to say, and then you can be as mad as you want. But if you are going to start screaming at me, I would like for you to know everything that happened.”

I collapse into the chair, trying to stop my body from shaking. What I need is some good chocolate… I swallow the lump that has formed in my throat and nod my head, dreading what Dumbledore is about to say.

“I am sorry Remus, but Lily and James are… they are dead.”

Someone moans and I’m surprised to find my hand on my mouth and I realize that I’m the one who moaned. I shake my head and softly mouth “No…”

Dumbledore has held up his hand and now continues to speak. “That is not all, I’m afraid. It seems that when Voldemort tried to kill young Harry, we was…unable to-”

“So Harry’s still alive?” I ask, my heart soaring for a moment. “I know Sirius was his godfather, but- if Pron- James and Lily have been… Well then Sirius must have… But I could take him, sir. I could raise Harry. I know it’s what James and Lily would have wanted.” I end my rambling and look up to stare defiantly at Dumbledore. If Peter and I are the last two Marauders then we should be to ones to take care of Harry. Take care of our best mate’s son since he is unable to.

“Yes, Harry is alive. But no, Remus, you cannot raise Harry. You see-”

“No,” I say as calmly as I can. “No, Dumbledore, you need to see. Harry- he’s James son. I was there when he was born. I saw him in his first Christmas outfit, bounced him on my knee that New Year’s… I saw him chase around the cat when he finally learned how to walk. He- he calls me Moony…”

“I’m sorry Remus, but Harry has to live with family, it’s the only place that he’s safe-”

“Peter and I are the only family Harry has left! James’ parents died last year and Lily’s parents died right after we left Hogwarts!” I suddenly had a sinking feeling as something occurred to me. “You- you can’t mean Lilly’s sister, can you? She’s a Muggle if I ever saw one! The things Lily has told me about her… She barely constitutes as family, Dumbledore!”

“And yet, she does. The blood that ru-ran through Lily’s veins and therefore runs through Harry’s is the same as the blood that runs through Petunia Dursley’s veins. And we need that blood, that family link for Harry to be safe, for my protection charm to work. I’m sorry, Remus, but you cannot take care of Harry. But I’m even sorrier, because all my bad news has not been told,” he sighed and leaned back in his chair, steepening his hands once again. “You see, Remus… it’s quite a bit later then you might think and quite a lot has happened since you locked yourself in here last night. After Voldemort tried to kill Harry, something happened. I think that the killing curse rebounded on him. He is, at least as far as we can tell, gone. There is no trace left of him.”

“Gone?” I say and try to wrap my head around this concept. “What do you mean, gone? How can he be _gone_?”

Dumbledore shakes head. “I do not know, Remus…but that is not all that’s happened.”

“What else could happen? One of my best friends is dead, along with his wife. And the monster that killed them was somehow defeated by their one year old son! Who you _won't let me take care of_!" I close my eyes and take a deep breath, running my hand through my hair. "I'm sorry. But...what wild thing are you doing to say now?”

Dumbledore sighs and looks at me with sad eyes. “Remus… Peter is dead. Apparently he tried to corner Sirius after he found out about the attack. Sirius was mad, he killed Peter and twelve Muggles. The Aurors arrived moments afterward, and found Sirius standing in the road, laughing madly. They’ve taken him to Azkaban.”

I’d closed my eyes when Dumbledore first mentioned Sirius and now with the silence I open them to look at him. I see that there are two tears trailing down his face to his beard. I raise my hand to rub my tired eyes and am only slightly surprised to find my own cheeks are covered in tears.

Dumbledore leans forward and places a hand on my knee. “Remus, I am so sorry.”

I nod dumbly, lean forward to grab my wand from the floor where it had fallen when I had stood up before. I had been so angry just a few minutes ago, and now… I was just numb. “Th-thank you for telling my, sir. I… think I am going home. I should…pack, shouldn’t I? Who knows what the Death Eaters will know…” I say, slowly standing up and make my way toward the door. 

“Remus?” Dumbledore calls and I turn around to look at him. “I would avoid public places if I were you. There seems to be a lot of celebrating going on today and the Ministry seems unable to control it…”

I nod and take a deep breath before opening the door and stepping out into a world where I no longer had the friends that had gotten me through the past eleven years. 

When I Apparate into our building I almost fall over. I make it into the flat and stagger to the sofa before collapsing. I try to stare at the ceiling and not think about everything I just found out, all the people just taken from me. It doesn’t work. Instead it just reminded me of the time Sirius and I each drank a bottle of firewiskey and smoked enough Gillyweed that we stared at the ceiling of their first flat for two hours without really talking. 

I can feel tears trailing down the sides of my face and sit up before they could fall in my ears. My eyes landed on the Picture. The one Sirius got to remind us of better times. Oh, it had it done just that. It was that Picture that brought us back together after our first major fight. Sirius had found me sulking in the Leaky Cauldron and had sat the picture in front of me. It had only taken a few minutes of staring at it for me to be ready to talk to him. 

Had it all been fake? All of it been an act? Or had Sirius, _my_ Sirius, just grown tired of us all? Had he decided that he liked the Dark Arts more, that he could be stronger if he followed that path? Because try as I might, I know it wasn’t about the bloodlines. About Pureblood supremacy. No. He had defended me and Lils far too often for it to be that. But…Pad- Sirius had been a strong and smart wizard without the Dark Arts… And he had been Prongs’ Secret Keeper, who else could have betrayed them?

The Picture seems to be laughing at me, even if it wasn’t a wizarding photo. In two steps I stride across the flat, grab the Picture off the table and turn to throw it…somewhere. I aim at the rubbish bin, but my hand starts to shake and my nose starts to get tight with tears. I can’t throw it away, but I can’t look at it any longer. I slowly spin around, trying to find something to do with this piece of haunting memory.

There.

I see it, my old school trunk, still holding single socks, favorite books and pieces of parchment. I can hide it in there. That way if I ever want to look at it again…I will know where it is. I limp over there, the adrenalin from my burst of anger already gone, and open the trunk. I take one last look at the Picture, (the four of us laughing, not knowing the terrible, terrible things in store for us all) and then toss it into my trunk and kick the lid shut. I hear the glass of the frame shatter before the lid slams shut and I can’t help but feel like the glass has mirrored my soul.

_The Picture stayed with me those twelve dark years. It went from the bottom of my old school trunk to the bottom of set of suitcases to the inside of a rarely read book (also given to me by Sirius)._

_The book was one on defensive magic that I had received as a birthday present months before that horrible Halloween. And so when I took the cursed Defence Against the Dark Arts job, it came with me. And so I had it near me when I found out the truth about my old lover and my friend’s betrayer._

*

I spent the whole year at Hogwarts fighting memories of my childhood. I’d be teaching and glance up and see Harry and suddenly be thrown back to a prank the Slytherins had played that had turned Sirius' hair bright orange for a week. And then I would have to try very hard to remember what I was supposed to be teaching. It was a good thing I’d spent the past thirteen years reading books about all manner of dark spells, curses and, of course, creatures.

Diving into that research had kept me going. I’ve always had some unformed thoughts of being a greater use to others. And I wondered what could have happened if I’d known more myself. I’ve always wanted to be a teacher and Dumbledore knew that. So even though I suspected there was a curse, I grabbed at the chance to teach others with both hands. 

I hadn’t realized how many haunting memories there would be in Hogwarts. 

And I didn’t count on how much Harry would look like James. How much he looked like his mother and father. For the first few months, before I got to know Harry for himself, James and Lily looked back at me accusingly from Harry’s face. But then, as I slowly tried to do right by Harry, and as my love for the little baby I had known grew to love for a strong and amazing teenager, I could see James and Lily smiling back at me. They were glad that at least one Marauder was caring for him.

Or at least, I had assumed I was the only one. 

And then last night, I had been looking at the Map and saw Peter’s name. Poor Peter, who was supposed to be dead. And even worse, I saw Sirius’s name chasing him. Surprised as I was at seeing Peter alive, it was Sirius’ name that shocked me into action.

Had this year not been hard enough with the memories of childhood chasing me in the corridors, Sirius’ escape had caused me many sleepless night. My dreams were haunted with worry and memories. 

Sirius would come back, explain why he had betrayed our friends and then all would be forgiven.

Sirius would come back and finish off the Marauders, because I knew far too many secrets about him. 

Sirius would come and kill Harry. 

Sirius would come and not know anything that had happened because he’d been Imperiused.

I would toss and turn and wake biting my hand, tears falling down my scared and lined face. And then last night... I found out that Sirius had been framed. That he hadn’t even been the Secret Keeper, Peter had... Peter. Stupid, cowering, weak and meek little Peter had killed our friends all because he thought Voldemort would protect him. It made my blood boil. 

And Sirius, my Sirius.... he is so, so broken. With his shrunken face, lank hair, and circles under his eyes, this new face haunts me. I don’t know if there will be any way to fix him. I wanted to run my fingers over his face, his arms, his chest. I wanted my touch to heal him, like his had done so, so many years ago in the same shack. I wanted to talk about all the doubts and insecurities over these long years. I wanted to see how much the dementors had taken from him. How much he still remembered of our time at Hogwarts, of our pranks of... well of all the times we had.

Our first kiss surrounded by red curtains, our first shag in a room that was not only Imperturbed but silenced, the quiet soft touches we would share, the way I woke up to kisses after a full moon, the first night in our first flat where we had spent all night on blankets because we had no furniture, and that last time we had made love and not just shagged.

Tears slowly roll down my face and I desperately wish I had remembered to take my Wolfsbane potion last night and all of this hadn’t gone desperately wrong. If I hadn’t changed, then Peter would have been turned in, Sirius would be a free man again.

When I woke up this morning and dragged myself back onto the grounds, I found a smiling and tired looking Dumbledore waiting for me at the edge of the forest. I was so shocked to see a smile on his face that I momentarily forgot that I was starkers because I had transformed in my clothes the night before. 

He grinned at me and handed me a pile of clothes and I was strongly reminded of another morning after a full moon. As I pulled on my clothes Dumbledore told me about Harry and Hermione’s adventures and success the night before. I was grinning ear to ear at the end of the tale, but I could tell that there was something he wasn’t telling me.

“Unfortunately, Remus, you missed breakfast,” Dumbledore said and nodded a bit sadly. “Severus let news about your... condition slip at breakfast this morning-”

“Oh,” I said, my heart sinking. There was really only one thing left to do. There wasn’t really a way I could stay, not even Dumbledore could make that happen for me... I taken a deep breath and set my shoulders. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, sir, I need to go pack.” I turned to head back to the castle.

“I’m sorry, Remus,” he said to me, and started walking next to me up to the castle. “I will call a carriage for you, it’s the least I can do.”

That was how I came to be here, packing up my meagre belongings to move yet again. I pull the papers out of my desk and start going through them. Papers to give back to the students, lesson plans, notes from research, scraps of paper with fleeting thoughts written on them...And then I find the map that I had left on the table the night before. Right where Snape could find it. 

I looked at it and saw that Harry, Ron and Hermione were in the Hospital Wing. Harry would probably be on his way here shortly. I grab the papers I need, keeping the lesson plans for memory’s sake and open the door for him on the way to my suitcase. I try to tap the papers on a chair to make them line up and then give it up as a lost cause as many of them try to roll back up. I open my briefcase with one hand and stuff the papers into it with the other.

Or at least I try.

Something is blocking the papers from sliding into the area I want them to go. Grumbling (my body is still sore from a fight, and a Change, and then waking up on the dirt this morning) I set the papers down and look to see what is in the way. 

It’s a book and as I pull it out something falls from between the pages onto the ground. It’s the Picture. The one of the four of us in our sixth year. I smile and look down at it. I haven’t looked at it in so long. Just brief glances as I moved it from trunk to suitcase to an even older suitcase. I take a good look at it now as I bend and pick it up. We are so young, barely a care in the world and loving life. Before betrayal, lies, murder and evil seeped into our lives. 

I briefly touch Sirius’ face. Innocent. He’s innocent. All these years, I had held a little bit of hope and I was _right_. I’ll need to find a new frame for this, once I find somewhere to live. I smile as I lay the picture on top of the papers and slid them all in my suitcase, placing the book in last. I look around and see that I have basically packed everything. I throw away the papers I don’t need in the rubbish bin, stack the student’s essays on the desk, and lean over the map to look for Harry.

_I gave the Picture a new frame the moment I had some spare money and I proudly displayed it wherever I was living at the time. When I found a way to buy my childhood home in early spring of 1994, I jumped at the chance._

_So the Picture was there when Sirius came to me with the news that Voldmort was back. It caused Sirius to see hope of a future with me for the first time in over thirteen years and that was the greatest gift of all..._

***

_Knock. Knock._

I go to open the door and see that there is a shaggy black dog sitting on my 'welcome' rug. I stand there gaping, the door wide open. I don’t believe my eyes. I knew Sirius was in the country to watch Harry because of the Triwizard Tournament, but I didn’t expected to see him. I didn’t seen him since that night last year. The night I found out he was innocent. And here he is, wet and tired looking, sitting on my front step. He whimpers at me and I shake the shock off. Smiling, I step back and let him come in.

The dog walks in a few steps and waits for me to shut the door before transforming into the man that had shared my bed for over five years. I stare at him, wanting to run my hands over him and heal him. I stand by my door and he stands by my sofa for many minutes before either of us talk. We are both taking time to look at each other fully, and to take in as much as we can to make up for twelve lost years.

"Would you like some tea?" I ask, breaking the silence. There is so much tension in the air, and the wolf inside of me is growing restless. I have a little less than than a week before the full moon, and it is getting stronger. There is worry, and apprehension, and broken trust and most of all, a lot of history between us and there isn't enough room for all of it in my tiny little house. I look at Sirius and he seems startled until I repeat the question about tea. He smiles broadly and nods very enthusiastically. I get the feeling he hasn't had proper cuppa in a long while. I walk to the kitchen and start preparing tea the Muggle way. It was the way that I was taught and is a lovely way of postponing conversation that one doesn't want to have.

I have no idea how to act around him. There is so much more between us now than there was back then, and there was a lot then. I putter around the kitchen, rinsing off plates and putting dry dishes away until the kettle sounds off. I pour the hot water into the teapot and sit down at the table across from Sirius. As we wait for the tea to steep, I notice that he is staring off into space. I decide not to bother him; undoubtedly this is hard for him as well. Perhaps he is thinking about how to start the conversation, or else the past and what led us to where we are now, to perhaps what brought him to my door for the first time in a year. I think these are all very strong possibilities but when he speaks, I am very surprised.

"You kept it," he says and his voice is rough with disuse and briefly I wonder what it would sound like if he was screaming in pleasure before I rein my mind in and look at him.

"Kept what?" I ask and pour the tea. I make his cup first and push it towards him, hoping he still likes his tea the way he did when he was in his early twenties.

"The Picture," Sirius says, and points a hand that is slightly shaking over my shoulder.

I turn, knowing what I will find, and see the picture from our sixth year sitting on top of one of my many bookshelves. I nod and then turn back to him, smiling. “Yes, I did,” I say simply, thinking it might not be a good time to go into the way the picture has followed me through the years. Instead I start fixing my own tea, watching Sirius out of the tops of my eyes. 

He groans after he takes a sip of his tea and looks at me, eyes wide. “You- you remember how to fix my tea... You kept the Picture… Remus-” And then he stops talking as he grabs the hair at the nape of my neck and kisses me fully and deeply.

_The Picture came with me when I moved into Number 12 and sat on the bedside table next to our bed. It was hard, keeping our relationship a secret from the children that summer, but it was impossible keeping it from the members of the Order._

_Most of them were perfectly okay with it and many of them were the ones to help pick up the shattered pieces of me after the Battle at the Ministry..._

***

“No, Sirius,” Remus says and glares at me with a look that would cower a weaker man. 

Or at least, a less desperate man. But I’ve been locked up in the house, this cage, for so long. And now I could help. I could help Harry and Ron and Hermione. I could be useful. I could look at Snivellus in the face and be proud of who I am, instead of a shamed that I can't leave this stupid house. "Remus, please. You have to understand! I've been trapped her for too long!" I plead.

"No. We're going to the _Ministry_! What would happen if you get caught! You're a wanted man! What would they do to you?" Remus is angry, I can tell. He gets this cute little wrinkle between his eyes when he gets angry. Yet he walks up to me, and places a hand on my cheek. "I don't know what I would do if I lost you... And Sirius, you wouldn't survive Azkaban if they sent you back. Don't you see? The safest place for you is here."

"Remus! Are you coming?" Tonks shouts from downstairs and Remus impatiently looks over his shoulder. He leans down and kisses me deeply before turning around and going down the stairs.

I sigh and start pacing up and down the hallway in front of our room. _Safe_. But safe isn’t fun. Safe it's helping Harry! I want to shout, but I understand Remus’ reasoning. I continue pacing, trying to convince myself that I should stay here. That I _can_ stay here…

I can't stand this. I can't! I have to be there, I have to help Harry! What kind of Godfather would I be if I didn't help him? But Remus would kill me if he found out. Well... Then I would just have to wait until everyone else was gone. If I showed up at the fight, at the ministry, there would be so much going on, that they couldn't send me back. They would have to let me fight! I sneak downstairs to listen and to find out when they have gone. I can here Tonks asking Remus if he was able to convince me, but I can’t hear his reply. 

A moment later, I hear the 'whoosh' of the fireplace activating. A grin spreads across my face as I rush back upstairs to grab my wand where I had tossed it when Remus said I couldn't come. I have to get on my hands and knees to fish it out from under an end table in our room. My fingers wrap around it and as I bring it out from under the table, my fist hits it. The picture frame with the Picture from sixth year bounces off the table and crashes on the ground, the glass shattering. I look at it as I stand up, but I don't have time. What if I get there and the fight is done?

It will be fine. I'll fix it after the fight at the Ministry.

 

_~End~_

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to see the picture that was my prompt for this work, it's a picture of the Sex Pistols from 1979. A decent version is here: https://albumoriented.files.wordpress.com/2013/04/157-a-bloody-mess-01.jpeg


End file.
